Familiar Consequences
by Quicksilver
Summary: Part of the Sailor Moon expanded Universe. Other stories by more talented writers can be found at: http://www.tuxedomask.com/SailorMoonExpanded Summary: The perils of friendship with a Mooncat during less enlightened times.


_Quicksilver's Quill Offers_ Familiar Consequences[Quicksilver][1]

Disclaimers: Sailor Moon is not mine- if you think it is, I've also got some ocean-front property in Ohio to sell you. All original characters can be assumed to be the property of the SME gang. AN: There was no WAY I was going to attempt to use dialect.... SORRY!   
  


Marge was an old woman, but Osiris loved her dearly. She had been a good mistress, and he would miss her when she died. It was so very hard to watch person after person die while he continued to live, waiting for the return of the Princess. 

Marge had been a pretty young thing when he had met her, full of spirit and joie de vivre. He hadn't MEANT to become attached to her, but it had happened in spite of his best efforts. Every hundred years or so he would join another as a partner in life, only to have them die when their time ran out. All died far too soon; sometimes he wondered why immortality had been granted to his kind- Mooncats were meant to have a purpose, a duty in life, yet he had none. He waited; that was all. 

Still, melancholy thoughts weren't in Osiris' nature, and he quickly bounced back from the periods of depression that attempted to overwhelm him. He kept himself going by dreaming of his beloved Isis, or by listening carefully for any sign of the return of the Senshi, their associates, or the Princess herself. Millennia had passed, and though he would hear of occasional rumors of talking cats or magical happenings, all of these proved to be dead ends whenever he investigated. 

If not for Marge, and others like her, he would have gone insane out of sheer loneliness. He loved to have someone to talk to, yet he recognized that to do so carelessly would be dangerous. He didn't want to be accused of being a demon (or worse), and getting his tail singed by fire was not one of his favorite things. Humans had something with burning things they didn't understand- two of his prior companions, John the Joiner and Anne of Hampshire, had been condemned to the fires. He could still remember their agonized screams as the flames crept towards them before the clouds of smoke choked them to death. 

His current companion was getting old, and Osiris recognized the signs all too well. She had a few years left at most, and those years would be filled with pain as her body slowly gave out. The thing he missed most about the Silver Millenium was the way magic had taken care of so many people. He hated to see pain and suffering. 

He did what he could for her, amusing her with tales of the past lives he had led. Marge had always been particularly fascinated by the legend of the Princesses of Uranus and Neptune. She had never known that two women could love each other to the extent he described, and sometimes she would shut her eyes and let herself drift off into her imagination, letting Osiris' smooth voice flow over her like refreshing waterfall. 

Those were the times he enjoyed best- talking of the past with someone who wanted to hear, while sitting on her warm lap as her slender hands stroked him lovingly. 

Today, though, she was churning butter, her hands partially crippled by arthritis, but her sense of humor still in fine form. He wandered over to her, and gave her his best 'I'm so sweet and innocent' look. She laughed and picked up a nearby rag, taking a playful swing at him. "Don't give me that! I need all the cream for the butter!" she said, cranking away like a mad woman. 

"Just a little taste..." he said like a child begging for a sweet. "You know I don't like butter as much...." 

"It's too late!" she said. "I've already put everything in. I'll let you have a buttered slice of bread when I'm done," she promised. "That is, if you behave and keep your whiskers clean." 

"Really?" he asked, perking up a little. He LOVED Marge's bread and butter. 

"Really," she laughed. "But while I'm working on the butter, how about telling me a story?" she asked. 

Suddenly he realized her ploy. Marge always wanted more stories out of him, and her offer of food was little more then a trade. "Okay," he said. "What would you-" he said, pausing and meowing, the sign that someone was coming up the path. 

Marge turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. Reaching for her bonnet, she stuffed it on her head clumsily, then headed for the door. When the expected knock sounded, she opened it to find one of the villages, the Mayor, in fact, standing there with a small group of men behind him. "Can I do something for you?" she asked rather stiffly. 

"Margaret Hatcher, you stand accused of being a witch." 

***

The cries still echoed in her ears. People that she had helped deliver shouted accusations, and there had been nothing she could do to defend herself. 

"She caused Paul to be born with a crooked leg!" 

"My cow dried up after she touched it!" 

"I saw her give me the evil eye!" 

"My daughter saw her dance under the full moon with the minions of Satan! She tried to persuade my Blanche to join her!" 

"She keeps a demon in the form of a black cat! I heard it talk!" 

Marge had been unable to think of anyway to call people back to their senses, and the Mayor, who had previously helped her bring her crafts to market, had grimly pronounced that she was to be burned at the stake at sunset. The people had wasted no time in cheering, jeering and throwing stones as she was led away to jail. 

Now there was only two hours until sunset, and she was frightened. She was alone. 

A small click from the window got her attention, and she peeked up to see Osiris balancing on the edge before leaping agilely down. She heard him mumbling in the old language he used whenever he was particularly annoyed, but the serious look in his shining eyes was foreign to her. 

He looked at the bruises and cuts the villagers had inflicted, and his eyes narrowed. "People are so cruel," he said finally. 

From the very first time they had met, it had never occurred to Marge to be afraid. There was something so fundamentally GOOD about him that she was positive that he couldn't be a creature of evil. It had been almost thirty years since he had first dared speak to her, and she had treasured every moment since. Osiris was special, and if the price of knowing him was hell, it was a price she would gladly pay. 

"They're afraid. I think someone overheard us talking." 

He flinched, and she wanted to comfort him and assure him that it wasn't his fault. Before she could speak, he started towards the other side of the room. 

"I can get the keys and help you break out. From there we can steal a wagon and-" he began, plotting an escape. 

She shook her head. "I'm too old. They'd catch me quickly, and be even angrier. " 

"I wish I could do something for you," Osiris said. 

"Tell me a story," she whispered. 

Osiris looked around nervously. "I should get going. If I get caught in here with you, they'll assume the worst." 

She snorted. "They're going to burn me at sundown- what can they do that is worse than that?" she demanded. "Stay with me, talk to me," she begged. 

Osiris sighed. "They can beat you," he pointed out, but crept forward to slip into her lap, resting his paws on her legs. "I don't want to see you hurt." 

"It's too late- I've been betrayed by those I've trusted," she whispered. "Will you desert me as well?" 

"Never!" he whispered fiercely. 

She smiled tiredly, and one of her hands started to rub him with affection. "Tell me a story," she repeated." 

"Which do you want to hear?" he asked. "How about the one of Princess Serena and Prince Endymion? Or the legend of Sailor Pluto? Or another tale of Uranus and Neptune? Those are your favorite, aren't they?" 

Marge shook her head. "Tell me a story of the Mooncats. You've hardly ever spoken of your brethren before." 

Osiris looked at her with unease. "We're not that interesting when you consider everything else the Silver Millenium had to offer. Wouldn't you rather hear about one of the Senshi, or of the Star Hunters? They make for more exciting listening." 

"No. Tell me of your people." 

Osiris shut his eyes, looking for a place to begin. "In the days before the bible had been written, in times that have long faded into memory, and memory into dust, there was a wonderful civilization in space. Now there were not five planets, as your people count them, but rather twice that number. Each of these planets was guarded by a fierce warrior woman, save Earth, which was protected by a Prince. 

"Now it came to pass that Queen Serenity, second of many to bear that proud name, decided to created a second sentience race. Her reasons were not known, but the results were my people. 

"Using the ginzuishou, a magical gem that wields the very power of the Moon's soul itself, she turned ten ordinary cats -five male, five female- into a second race. These special cats were marked by a golden crescent moon which they wore upon their foreheads as reminders of their beginnings. 

"Each of these cats was trained extensively in many arts through means both mundane and magical. When the time was right, they were offered as good-will gifts to the royal houses of the other planets. All gladly accepted these immortal advisors, with the exception of Pluto. That Monaco remained with Queen Serenity instead, and in time, proved to be invaluable in the protection of the Silver Millenium. 

"As time passed, nature took its course, as nature does. Three new Mooncats were born, of which I am one. There may have been more, but my parents never were very forthcoming on the subject. 

"When the Moon Kingdom fell, I was on Earth, but the rest of my people were elsewhere. I have no idea where any of them are, or if any of them survived. It's a possibility, but as time passes, I begin to doubt. Still, I wait for the return of the Senshi, as I'm sure all of the Mooncats are doing if they survived." 

Marge stopped her stroking of Osiris' sleek fur for a second, trying to think of a way to phrase her question. "How do you know these Senshi you've always told me of are returning?" she asked after a moment. "From what you told me, they died." 

"With the sacrifice of her life, the last Queen Serenity sent her people to a new future. I was out of range of the spell, but Sailor Pluto, the Guardian of Time, came to me and told me what was happening, commanding me to wait." 

"Wait for how long?" 

"For as long as it takes. The motto for the Mooncats is, 'I follow necessity.'" 

She smiled, then looked up through the bars on her window. "The sun is almost down," she whispered fearfully. 

Osiris looked at her with panicked eyes. "Marge!" he said, trying to purr a little comfort at her. 

"Will it hurt?" she asked. 

He wanted to lie, but she had been his friend far too long to do that. "Yes, it will hurt," he admitted. "But just shut your eyes and think of your God, and all will be well in the end. You're not evil; in fact, you're too good for this world." 

She nodded, then hugged him so tightly he thought she might snap his ribs. "They won't see me cry," she vowed. Then she kissed his forehead, right where his hidden crescent moon was. "Can you promise me something?" 

"If it's in my power," he said. 

"Don't forget me," she begged. 

His golden eyes flashed, and he tried to convey the intensity of his response through his voice. Oh, that cats could cry! he lamented mentally. "I never forget anyone I love," he promised. "I will never forget you." 

She smiled tremulously at him, then glanced at the window for a final time. "Leave now before the guards find you. The sun has set." 

***

Osiris looked at the smoking pile that was the last remnants of the pyre that had killed his friend. Marge had kept his word, never screaming no mater how high the flames rose. Luckily for her, she had died fairly quickly, her old lungs unable to get enough air to breath through the inferno. 

He had forced himself to watch the entire scene, wondering why his friendships always seemed to end with such sorrow. He wanted to see another of the Mooncats again, see someone who was just as immortal as he was. 

Still, there was little to be done aside from move on, carrying the memories of Marge with him, along with the memories of so many others. Sailor Pluto had promised that the Senshi would return, and he had to believe that. 

He had to believe, or else there was nothing. END

   [1]: mailto:mbsilvana@yahoo.com



End file.
